Poor Are Those Who Have Eyes But Cannot See
by raindrops-and-dreams
Summary: "The key moment is upon us, whether Middle Earth shall be made or broken. It rests on the shoulders of the king." In which dwarves are protective and even Morgoth himself couldn't mess with dwarven family. OC & Thorin's Company, cute family feels, BAMF Dis, and Bilbo is so completely done with your bs
1. 1: Azurite And Sugilite

"We are at the Carrock." The wisened old man rasped in exhaustion. Healing of stubborn dwarven lords was tiring work. The Grey Pilgrim leant heavily on his staff, his spent energy making him look more like the frail old man he posed as. "There is a house, at the bottom, we may find refuge." His light grey eyes darkened as he gazed around the torn up company.

"Friend or foe?" The deep gravely voice revealed none of his pain- the dwarf king still managing to look majestic whilst bruised and bloody.

"Friend," Gandalf sighed in resignation, "Or, at least, I do not believe she will kill us."

This gave Thorin little hope, yet (as he thought through the groups options) he found it was the only sound option they had. "Lead the way." He commanded, and the company was on their feet yet again.

She knew they were coming. Unna had seen their arrival for months. Different paths crisscrossing as to how and when, but always they came. The meal was like a banquet along the large table. The beds had been turned down and Unna had salves and poultices ready for the wounded.

Finally the knock arrived, heavy and unforgiving on her front door. With staff in hand, Unna made her way to the door, dancing skillfully through her home.

"Gandalf." She greeted once the door was open. She could feel the shocked looks burning into her skin. Whatever the dwarrow expected to find, it was not a fairly young dwarrowdam as their host. "You seek shelter." Her dreamy voice floated.

"Yes." Gandalf said with a tired smile.

"The table is layed and medicines are ready in the bathing chamber." Her voice seemed to drift in the breeze, light and whimsical as if she was not completely present. "Come," Although her voice was light and passive her words were strong, "You all require healing." With that she led the way to the bathing chamber. The wizard followed close behind her, and thirteen dwarrow and hobbit trailed behind him.

The bathing chamber was large- especially for such a small home. It was down beautifully carved stone steps. Its placement was underground, making the most of the natural hotsprings placed there. The dwarrow were deeply appreciative of the beautiful hardwork put into carving it. They mumbled to each other in appreciation of the intricate detail and the complicated architecture.

"Wash and tend your hurts, the meal is in the dining room," Unna's voice floated around the in a soft, hushed echo, "Although I would not spend too long, or else it shall become cold." The lass exited the room, a far away look painted upon her beautiful face.

Once the door was closed Thorin rounded on Gandalf, "What is this?" He snarled like a caged bear.

Gandalf hummed, a mischievous secretive twinkle in his eye, "All in good time. All in good time." And the turned away, finishing the conversation before it was started.

Before Thorin could protest Gandalf's secrecy Oin was whacking him upside the head and demanding he wash so that the healer could heal him. The dwarf king resigned himself to his fate. He would get answers, but his company needed healing first.

The hostess didn't reappear to the group until many had finished their food, and this time Thorin required answers. However his voice died in his throat as her gaze snapped to him, it was as if she were looking right through him, the breech in privacy unnerving him. Still, he forced himself to study her, starting with her odd eyes. They were the same blue as azurite druzy. Or, perhaps, on second glance, they were not. No, they seemed to flicker between azurite druzy and dark purple sugilite depending on how the light shined against them. How odd. He forced himself to continue his study.

Her hair- Mahal her hair. Whilst Dori's hair was the colour of raw, unmined mithril and Balin's the colour of forged mithril works, hers was the colour of heated, liquid mithril. The silver was pale and almost white but tinted with glowing blue, flowing like the liquid silver steel that was so coveted. Her hair curled in loose ringlets down to the bottom of her spine. Her bearded was just as silky looking, reaching just bellow the base of her neck. It was far more fine than that of a dwarrow, and shorter too (dams very rarely had beards reaching more than halfway down their chests). It was odd- for a dam- that only one small braid lined her glossy hair. The braid itself marked her of age, the rustic bronze bead claiming her to be of the Longbeard clan. His clan. There was also a wooden bead, carved into the shape of a bear's roaring head. Thorin did not understand its significance- although it must have one. Also running down the small braid that framed the right side he face was a ribbon of emerald shade. Upon it were runes, stitched with brown thread. He did not know their language, nor understand their meaning. Odd.

Her attire was (thankfully) familiar to him. It was more the traditional casual clothing of dams when inside their homes and mountains. Not ornate clothing for parties, rituals and other such occasions, nor armour. It was simply comfortable. Brown leather trousers clung to her legs, accentuating the powerful muscles. From the design he would guess they were tied with latticed laces at the back. What appeared as a green tunic (almost matching the colour of her ribbon) draped off of her shoulders. Due to having a sister of his own, he knew that it was not in fact a tunic, rather more like a bodice with long sleeves that ended a couple of inches above her navel. A thick brown belt rest at the base of the bodice, the shape curved around the base of her breasts. String tied it in a lattice format at the front. From Thorin's knowledge most dams used such belts to secure weapons to themselves. Dark brown leather boots danced up her calves. Grey woollen socks poked out the top of the boots, resting just bellow her knees. The outfit showed of her muscular but feminine figure (that many outside the dwarven race were not aware dams had). But the dam was in her own home, she had no reason to hide who she was.

"Unna," Her voice drifted, "At your services." Before she gave a traditional bow.

"Balin, at yours, lass." Balin stood and bowed.

This continued in a circle of the dwarrow and a hobbit until, lastly, it was Thorin's turn. "Thorin son of Thrain son of Thror, at yours." Half glaring, suspicion flared inside of him, he asked in a growl, "How did you know we were coming?"

Before she could answer Gandalf interrupted. "Miss Unna, here, is a seer." His eyes dance with mischief whilst his tone was meddlesome and all knowing (in a way only Gandalf could ever pull off).

"I can speak for myself, thank you, Gandalf." Although her tone was light, the warning was as sharp and clear as glass. Gandalf nodded a quick apology before puffing at his pipe (at habit he often partook in when in trouble or avoiding answers). The dwarrow all felt shivers down their spines at the prospect of an angry dam. From experience they all knew it would end badly for everyone who crossed her.

"A seer?" Balin redirected the topic. "An amazing gift. There has not been a dwarven seer in over a millenia." Unna simply hummed in response.

"You head to Erebor." Thorin had disconcerted that the whimsical far away tone was her natural tone of voice.

"Aye." He agreed gravely. "How did you come to live here?"

"My parents settled here after Erebor's fall," She commented, "But that is not what must be spoken of." Her eyes flickered to Gandalf. "Middle Earth is at a tipping point."

"What do you mean?" Gandalf enquired, much in the same way he had of Bilbo those many months previous.

"The key moment approaches. Whether Middle Earth is truly saved, or whether she falls to darkness." The seer's tone made the foreboding statement even more eerie.

"What do you mean 'fall to darkness'?" Kili questioned, never was he one to stay quiet.

"Morgoth's Spawn would rain." Her eye bore into the dwarrow.

The poor oblivious boys merely gained a confused look upon his face, "Who? Elves?"

She gave him a sad sort of smile, "I did not mean it figuratively." She turned her gaze from Kili to the dark window. "The key moment is upon us, whether Middle Earth shall be made or broken. It rests on the shoulders of the king."

"King?" Gandalf commanded, "What king?"

Unna turned and stared blankly at the wizard, "The only king I would follow."

Gandalf's bushy eyebrows drew together as he studied her, "Thorin?"

"Yes." She sighed, like an April breeze before the showers.

"What d'ya mean 'Thorin'?" An overprotective Dwalin demanded.

"He is the tuning point." She reinforced, "It rests with him."

Thorin studied her. "You would follow me as your king?" He finally thought aloud.

"Of course." She agreed as if the answer were obvious. "You are the true king. You deserve your title, not only through Mahal's blessing but through your actions. You deserve loyalty." She smiled softly at her king.

After a moment of stunned silence, Unna continued, "What is your plan?"

"Shouldn't ya know?" Dwalin grumbled under his breath. Unna chose to ignore him.

"Through Mirkwood, then Laketown and other to Erebor." Stoic Thorin simply answered.

"I meant for the gold sickness." Unna hummed.

Tension seized Thorin's muscles. "I shall not becoming mad for gold." He ground out through gritted teeth.

"You shall." She informed. As she stared blankly at him, she gave no softening words, only the cold truth.

Thorin fought hard to keep his expression blank from the terror suddenly drowning him. "There is no cure." He sad tonelessly. He felt resigned and empty.

"Because it is not an illness, it is a curse." She informed. Unna turned her face to Gandalf. "A protective blessing of Mahal should break it."

Gandalf considered her. Slowly he nodded, "I shall cast it once I reach the mountain."

"No." The daydreamer voice hit hard with urgency. "You shall arrive late. Cast it this eve. I feel Mahal's eyes. He watches."

"Very well." Gandalf conceded after long deliberation.

"Good." Unna sung, "The paths grow clearer already."

"Paths?" Bofur questioned.

At the same second Bilbo question, "Clearer?"

"The future is not set in stone," She explained, "It is never certain. There are millions of paths that float and crash and collide. Little decisions that form the bigger picture. The more likely the path, the clearer the image." Unna leaned gently upon her staff. "Paths can always change if one chooses to go a different way."

A deep frown was printed on Gandalf's face, "How is it that Lady Galadriel speaks nothing of this."

"Her sight is being blocked." Unna shifted her weight, "By a ghost. An enemy in the shadows." Gandalf gave her a sharp look at her chosen words. She smiled sadly, "You shall know soon." Her eyes grew dark, a deep azurite druzy colour. "Do not let Saruman follow the Necromancer after Dol Guldur." Her urgent voice floated in their ears. "He shall find something and be lost forever."

"I cannot control Saruman." Gandalf frowned, "He does as he decrees is best."

"If he follows he shall fall to darkness. Prevent that Gandalf." Unna's expression was blank and cold. "Two kinsman you have lost, do not let another fall." Gandalf nodded in silent despair. He began to plan.

"It is time for rest." Unna softly commanded. "The journey is still long and the beds are calling for bodies to keep them warm. Tomorrow your journey continues." Staring out the window again she commented, "In the morrow we he'd to Beorn's home."

"We?" Thorin raised his eyebrows.

"Of course. You need me." She hummed. For once, Thorin did not argue, for the he wished to protect any dam. The seer knew what was to come, and much seemed to rest upon this success.

"Very well." He nodded regally. With that, Unna began to show the males to rooms and beds.

As all slept, Gandalf cast the spell. The room glowed of mithril at Aulë's acceptance of the protection. Gandalf heaved a sigh of relief. He stumbled to the remaining bed, his old bones creaking. He ought to rest whilst he could, he feared that the worst was still to come. As his eyes closed, he prayed. Then he was asleep.


	2. 2: Bjørn

"If you have questions, my King, perhaps you should use your words rather than glaring." Unna's willowy voice drifted down to Thorin.

Unna herself was pacing forward at the front of the group with Gandalf. Thorin was several steps behind them, in between Balin and Dwalin. Thorin merely glared harder at her back, a growl ripping from his throat in frustration. Discreetly, Balin stomped on Thorin's foot, giving him a look of warning. Thorin fell silent.

"Come." Unna commanded, her voice dancing in the wind, "We have reached the edge of Beorn's land. We must reach his home by nightfall."

Gandalf then took up the mantle of explaining how Beorn's was a skin changer, and 'No, Master Baggins! Not a furrier! Quiet your mouth, fool of a Took!'. Unna paid them no mind, for her mind was elsewhere.

Nori had taken to watching the new member of Thorin's Company, for that was his job. He blended in the background, as he was wont to do, and observed.

She held herself with a careless confidence, but walked as if she'd rather dance under the sun. Her posture held no tension, as if she were completely relaxed in her environment. Her body language and facial expressions held no indications of lies when she spoke, but there was something deep and foreboding in her eyes that cautioned him. She held secrets, and she held them close.

She wore traditional dam travelling clothes, hiding her figure. She wore a brown tunic, slightly baggy black trousers, and a thick layered over coat. Many people of other races would assume she was a dwarrow not a dwarrowdam.

She was a beauty, would be popular with the lads and lasses backing Ered Luin. She was probably aged somewhere between 80 and 130. It was always hard to tell with lasses (and that's how they liked it). And, while a soft smile of bliss encompassed her gorgeous face as she looked up at the sun, Nori couldn't help but feel something was off. Something was slightly wrong in how she held herself, in how she conducted her manner, and he couldn't figure out what. And that bothered the thief. It bothered him a lot.

Unna felt mild amusement at how quickly the moans, groans and twittering stopped when the group first saw Beorn. She had to admit that he probably looked very intimidating to the rest, for he was taller than even Gandalf. Dressed in only simple brown trousers, and heavily chopping wood, he was surely a sight to behold.

Suddenly his gaze snapped to them, roaring thunderous anger rolled beneath his eyes. The dwarrow tensed. But, just as quickly as he had angered, the gigantic male calmed.

"Cub." He growly voice spoke warmly. Beorn's head tilted down to look at them, a soft smile on his ruggish face.

"Hello, Bjørn." Unna replied, her voice ever dreamy. "May my friends and I rest here?"

Beorn wrinkled his nose, "They're dwarves."

"Not all of them," Unna countered, a happy smile on her face, "There is also a hobbit and a wizard."

"Yes, I see the bunny and the meddlesome one." Beorn huffed.

Unna merely laughed melodiously. "Now we've come to an agreement, may we dine?"

"We have not come to an agreement." Beorn grouched.

"We haven't? We will. I will promise they not harm your children and you will give in because it's me." Unna hummed, her never present but always there presence tiptoeing dances around.

Beorn huffed out barking laughter. "Very well, Cub. Let us feast." Unna grinned as Beorn lifted her gently up onto his shoulder. The group watched the transaction with varying looks of shock on their faces. They barely shook themselves out of it long enough to follow the odd pair.

Dusk had fallen, and a fire had been struck. Beorn had left previously, after instructing the strangers not to leave during the night. Gandalf had disappeared (what a surprise) and the rest of the company sat around the fire.

"Yes, my Princes?" Unna's voice floated- so soft in contrast of the cackling fire. No answer came, although the stares continued. "Ask whatever you wish to ask, my Princes. I hold no secrets."

"How do you know Beorn?" Kili find ally burst with energetic youth. His chocolate diamond eyes warm with curiosity.

"You seem rather close." Fili continued on from his brother. His moustache braids were twitching.

"We are." Her voice drifted. "He became close friends with my parents when they settled here." Her gaze appeared to be trained on the fire, although her eyes still held the far away look. "When they died I grew here until I was of age."

"How did they die?" Kili said it as carefully as he was capable, but still it was blunt and callous.

Dori felt his fingers itch to whack the lad upside the head. He resisted. Dori had been watching the lass as much as Nori had, the duo comparing notes. Both had learnt how to clearly read people's body language, due the their jobs in Ered Luin, Nori being a thief and Dori an escort. Dori watched the minor twinge in the lasses expression and cursed the Prince in his head. Ignorant fool.

"A fire burnt down our home. I built my house where our home once stood." Her voice was devoid of negative emotions, as light and fluttery as it always seemed. Two questions came at once then. One in a burst of shock and one subdued in sadness.

The shock came from Kili: "You built that? It was amazing!"

Whilst his elder brother, slightly more mature, asked softly: "How old were you?"

"59," Hummed Unna, "Yes, I did. The carving took several years. I started when I was 64, it was complete for my coming of age."

"Yer very skilled, lass." Bofur complimented with a lopsided grin. She offered a soft smile in return.

"'Ow old are ye? If ye don' mind me askin'?" Nori drawled with a critical eye.

"93." Unna hummed carelessly. Dori caught his brothers eyes. Nori gave a subtle nod. Dori returned it. They were in agreement, the lass wasn't lying.

"What were your parents names, lass?" Balin asked curiously. "Your braid claims you to be a Longbeard."

Mentally, Unna rolled her eyes. She knew what her own braid said. "Lunna daughter of Runna and Armin son of Ramin." She replied. Balin nodded. She knew he cared little now, although of Durin's line her family were not nobles.

Unna let no emotion show in her face or voice, but so many nobles made her uncomfortable. They were exhausting. As part of the line of Durin (no matter how distant) Unna had been taught how to deal with nobles, still the constant pleasantries and subtle mind games annoyed her. Her family were of Durin's line but were far from the noble seats. It's why she sat between Ori and Bombur. The House of Ri was outcasted by most. Born to the wrong person and notorious for being crooks. The Ur family were not of Durin at all. Plain folk. It was far more comfortable.

As it grew later more and more people retired to their bed rolls. Thorin was ordered away by Oin. Thorin in turn ordered his nephews to bed as well. Bilbo followed. As did Dwalin and Balin.

It took a while for the others to trickle away. Oin (none too gently) kicked Gloin awake, dragging his brother to bed. Bombur left in toe.

Unna relaxed slightly at the loss of the nobles. Dori and Nori shared a glance when both noted it. The tension in her shoulders had not been visible until it was gone.

"Don' like them others?" Nori's accented drawl queried. The remaining dwarrow looked up at her with that. Even Ori glanced up from his journal.

"I do not dislike them." Unna's voice floated. She hated her voice. People tended to think her simple because of it. "Nobles are exhausting. I care little for their word games nor their mind games."

"Yer with the righ' bunch now then!" Bofur cheered. He was warming cheese over the fire. Rotating it on a metal stick.

"Don' like nobles, daugh'er of Armin?" Nori gave her a suspicious look, twisting a dagger around his fingers thoughtlessly.

"My parents grew in yard. I'm about as far removed from the royal family as the House of Ri." Unna disregarded his accusations.

"Ye know 'o we are then." Nori squinted at her, his knife frozen mid twirl.

"I know your house, not you." Unna shrugged carelessly. The Ri brothers shared an incredulous. People always judged their house as if they knew them. They always thought the worse.

"People don't normally think that way." Sweet, innocent Ori spoke.

Unna sighed, "My Amad was an escort and my Adad a smuggler. My Amad's Amad was a dancer. Not the respectable type. She never married. My Adad's parents had 137 criminal marks between them. Every six months or so I head down to Rohan. Let's just say I don't go there to see the ponies." Unna held no shame. Her family did what they did to survive. She survived.

Bofur started chuckling, "Awh lass! Yer one of us!" He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Nori and Bifur joined the laughter. Unna began giggling at their foolishness. Dori huffed and rolled his eyes, thinking them all idiots (in a fond way).

Ori took this time to observe Unna. He wasn't Dori or Nori. His brothers got him a master, let him become a scribe against all odds. So Ori didn't learn to study people as his brothers did, but he wasn't ignorant. As Unna giggled leaning against Bofur, Bifur growled a story of smuggling three goats and a chicken into Ered Luin. Unna's eyes were always far away, but then again the dam always seemed to be far away- from her eyes to her voice. But still-

"Can you see?" The laughter stopped at Ori's sudden question. The dwarrow shot him confused looks.

"I see a lot." She sung, smiling in his direction.

"Are you blind?" He asked in a far more blunt manor.

"Yes," She said with a soft smile. She could practically hear the tension in the dwarrow surrounding her. She sighed, knowing she ought to explain. "There's a reason foresight is so rare. It always comes with a price." The dwarrow leant forward slightly in curiosity. "Most think that price is the mind. That seers are cursed to go insane. Insanity is never the price. A symptom perhaps."

"Do the elves have prices as well?" Ever inquisitive Ori asked, scribbling away in his journal.

"Yes." Unna's voice drifted. "From what I know, the Lady Galadriel cannot hear and the Lord Elrond has no movement in his right hand." Unna shrugged, "You learn to live with it."

"How d'ye know where everything is if you cannae see?" Bofur said, squeezing her shoulder, in a friendly manner, where his arm still layed.

"I can see." Unna smiled, as if she found his words most amusing.

"Ye blind." He pointed out.

"But I can see." Unna hummed. Bifur was snickering at his cousins confusion. Unna took pity on the confused dwarrow, "I just see before everyone else does."

"I'm an idio'." Bofur groaned, taking a swig of ale.

"You said it." Bifur snickered in Khuzdul.

"Oi! Cheeky git!" Bofur complained, leaning over to shove his cousin. Bifur just chuckled, and soon the group fell back into amused laughter.

Stories of broken laws and renegade family flew every which way. At some point Bombur joined them, having woken in need of a drink. Unna tutted, quick to bring the shy dwarrow out of his cage. Dori was impressed at how the dam got both Bombur and Ori comfortable, not a spec of shyness within either of them. The common folk laughed into the night while the nobles layed sleeping. Songs were song and stories were told. The group became closer for it; a friendship had bloomed. That was the start of all the problems.


End file.
